


Let me take you to my world

by AParisianShakespearean



Series: Dragon Age One Shots [22]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dancing, F/M, First Time, Smut, romantic sex, romantic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParisianShakespearean/pseuds/AParisianShakespearean
Summary: She takes him to her world, and in return, they make a new one together.





	Let me take you to my world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sternenreigen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sternenreigen/gifts).



Let me take you to my world.

It was something she asked the man she adored, the man that had a wonder ingrained in almost everything he did. Nearly childlike could his eyes be, trailed on a mother wolf and her pups, watching them play with a rapt interest. Yet at the same time, his blue eyes could turn hard, to somewhere else in an instant as danger lurked. In those moments he would raise his staff and slam it to the ground, ruthless to anyone who dared try to harm him or anyone in their party. Varric called him smug in the early days when they were in the Hinterlands, especially after he proclaimed in the Crossroads that the templars hadn’t faced a mage of such talents before. But silently Eirini thought to herself that perhaps he had a right to be smug. He was powerful, weaving a magic she had never seen before. Powerful yes, but also kind. He would remain by himself at the fire at nights in camp, and though his eyes were often filled with wonder, Eirini regarded him and thought something in his eyes were transcending time.

It had been months ago that she met him, months ago that she saw the wonder in his eyes and began to watch him with a wonder of her own. At first she told herself it was because of his magic, as the magic he spun from his staff and hands was a magic that she had never seen before and wanted to learn. Rift magic he called it. He even agreed to show her, though unlike he, she could channel the power of her marked hand. There was wonder that blossomed as he showed her, and a wonder of another sort as he placed his hand in hers and she felt the warmth of his palm encase the back of her hand, Solas helping her draw the magic out. He drew magic from the mark, and later, as Eirini lay in her golden bed at Skyhold, she wondered if the man had drawn magic of another sort entirely.

The man was an elf, like she was an elf, though he did not come from a wandering Dalish clan as she had come from. He had no vallaslin, and he made his home wherever he was. Yet there came a point where she became bold, bold enough to wonder if the two had a home in each other. Their kisses were wonder, his soft lips pliant as they kissed in the fade, and then later on, on her balcony. They were warm and he was warm, Eirini feeling that spark of lightning like his magic. His magic and her magic came together that day, and a new magic formed.

Wonder. It was all wonder.

Let me take you to my world.

She asked him that one day after their training. Let me take you to my world, let’s stow away together. Let me take you to my world.

He smiled at her when she asked, long fingers threading through her blonde hair. “And where shall we stow away?” he asked.

“To the Brecilian forest,” she said, “where my clan is.”

So often did Solas show her his world, through the fade and through his words with the stories he told her, and sometimes they even wandered through the wilds. She longed to do the same for him, and too, she longed to stow away with her lover some place far, pretend like there wasn’t a single care in the world other than enjoy the thrill of being together.

So they did, stow away, Josephine arranging for the Inquisitor to be away for one week, because amidst all the chaos and everything that was happening, she deserved to be free. She deserved to be free, even if that freedom was brief.

* * *

 

She introduced him to her grandmother.

The clan wandered from the Marches to Ferelden, near the Brecelian forest. Her grandmother Mithera was dear to Eirni, far dearer still because she lost her mother and father. Solas took her hand when he greeted her, commented on how strange it was for a clan to wander so far. But Clan Lavellan had always been far less typical than many others. This aspect of them was no different, as Mithera pointed out.

“Eirini is not typical,” Solas said, gaze wandering over to her, Eirini feeling that flush of pride. “Indeed, I never thought I would meet someone as thoughtful, as kind.”

“When she was a child she danced under the moonlight,” her grandmother said with a knowing grin.

“It is the same now,” Solas said, sharing that smile, and the three of them sat together, and it was as if they always had.

 

* * *

 

That night there was dancing.

Though as a child Eirini danced under the moon, when the stars hit the sky, she did not dance, electing to remain by her grandmother’s side instead. She watched as the children she grew up with, now grown, danced to the sound of bells and drums with their bond mates. Eirini was always a watcher, someone who always wanted to dance in her own world and felt out of place entering others. Until she met Solas.

“Where is your lover?”

Eirini turned to her grandmother, something in her knowing Eirini was thinking of him, that being the reason why she asked. “He must have gone exploring,” Eirini replied. “I saw him not to long ago.”

In fact, he was watching the other dancers with the same rapt interest as Eirini. Before the Winter Palace, Eirini would have never suspected Solas would be so invested or interested in revelry, but the wonder in his eyes surprised her that night. Again did he surprise her when he asked her to dance. She realized later she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Her lover too was a watcher, as she was a watcher. He studied the fade and wandered, living vicariously through that, but sometimes, in his waking life, he found wonder elsewhere. The dancing, merriment…

Her.

If he wandered off, he must have been up to something. Eirini smiled to herself, knowing she would be a part of those plans.

Her grandmother noticed. Smiling back, she reached over and squeezed the top of Eirni’s hand. “You have marks of love in you,” she said. “He makes you very happy.”

Eirini agreed. He did. So much.

“You’re attracted.”

“Well, of course I am,” Eirini replied, blushing. “But it’s more than that. It’s the way he moves, and his knowledge. The things he says to me, the way he treats me. I’ve never known anyone like him.”

“Please be careful my love.”

She didn’t have time to ponder her grandmother’s question or answer her, and though later she would realize the forbearance in the statement, the only thing Eirini saw then was Solas. For it was then that he emerged from the trees, past the dancers and past the music makers. Their eyes locked from across the way.

Her grandmother smiled at her again. “Go,” she muttered. Go off into your own world.

Eirini floated to Solas and into his arms. Dance with me, he said that night in the Winter Palace, and though Eirini was afraid of falling she danced with him, determined not to be a watcher that night. She was a watcher no more when she was in his arms dancing, and as the music slowed, Solas slowed to a gentler rhythm and pace. She placed her hand on his heart. Her own heart pattered. His was gentle and calm underneath her palm. He was always so calm.

“You disappeared again,” she muttered. “Off to your own world.”

“I was searching for something.”

“Did you find what you were searching for?”

“I know what would make it perfect.” He leaned down, whispered in her ear. “You there, with me.”

She felt his heart leap under her palm. “Take me,” she beckoned.

Take her there he did, the two slipping away. They slipped away and Eirni felt that inherent sort of thrill one could only have when they were with their lover. Before Solas she had a childhood sweetheart, and with him came a stolen kiss or two, but there was no other man before Solas. No one that had the ability to thrill her as he had. He was a scholar and academic, and he emulated all that those two words implied, but Eirini knew that ingrained underneath was a romantic, who took delight in dancing and took even more delight in slipping away with her. The woods were ancient and filled with secrets, but Eirini was safe. Her grandmother told her to be careful. But Eirini never had to worry when she was with Solas. With Solas she was always safe.

Hand in hand they walked, a light of the fire Solas must have made guiding them, until eventually they arrived at a small glen. The clearing was lush and emerald, a hidden paradise in the ancient wood. With a gesturing of his hand, Solas beckoned Eirini to close her eyes. She could hear the voices, the dialogue that must have once taken place there. The heartache, the battles. The woods told stories if one listened. They would add a new story that night.

“You took me to your world,” Solas said. “I met your people. I wanted to take you to my world.”

“It’s beautiful,” she muttered, his hand locking with hers.

“Often I would come to places like this, set wards so not to disturb the woods and the animals, and close my eyes and dream. Although…” He gravitated toward her. “You are far better than any imagining of the fade.”

Closer they gravitated. Their lips met, Solas gentle as he implored her lips to part for him. He kissed like he lived his life, methodical and thoughtful. He poured his whole being into it. Kisses gave her what his words sometimes didn’t—promises of a time together. They were promise of a world they could create together. That was the truth of it all. In her life she was too isolated, too in her own head. She had her grandmother, but she had no other people, until Solas. Solas was her person, his kisses her world.

He parted the kiss, a long and gentle finger caressing her cheeks, and the small tears that fell. He was tender when he asked why she was crying. She only pulled closer, and told him she was so happy. She never wanted the night to end. She wanted to remain there, in their own little world, forever.

“I wish we could,” he said. “Eirini…”

“Kiss me.”

The kiss was a contradiction. It satisfied but it spoke of more. It lit a spark that made her hand curl to the back of his neck, made her gravitate even closer. There was not a single space between them and yet it wasn’t enough. Solas, everywhere, touching every part of her. Always. It would never be enough.

All this talk they had. Her, taking him to her world, showing him her origins and roots, and him taking her to his own world, while marvelous and beautiful, had to be lonely. For as long as she had known him, he never once mentioned a family. She wondered if it was too much, too presumptuous of her to ever think she could be his family. But he had taken her to his lonely world, and she had taken him to hers. Maybe her world before him was just as lonely as his was, before her.

Though all of that mattered not. They had a new world, one with only the two of them. Perhaps too, they could continue to mold, shape their world together.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her, and Eirini closed her eyes, relishing the ardent gaze that swept over her. A gentle digit, a sweeping hand down his chest. A promise. A want.

She wanted. “Solas…”

He melted into her, yet he also straightened in decorum, ever respectful. Ever unassuming. “Vhenan,” he breathed, though his voice did betray his want, “I did not take you here with any expectations. I—”

“Solas,” Eirini whispered, her hand still over his beating heart. “You must have thought that perhaps…maybe…”

“Do you want to be with me?”

Her answer was a kiss. Yes. She wanted to be with him. She only had one question.

“Solas, will you be with me?”

Be with me, she asked of him. She got the feeling he would do anything she asked of him. He already had, she realized. He came with her to her world. He showed her his magic, allowed her into his mind and heart. Yet there was one thing she did wonder, one thing she wanted to ask, because she didn’t know the answer.

Will you be with me always?

She wanted him always, not just that moment. But why was she thinking of tomorrows when she had asked him to be with her then and now? If being the Inquisitor taught her anything, it was to live for the day. Think about tomorrow but don’t allow the tomorrows to rule over your thoughts. Live for the day. Live for tonight.

It began. It began with a kiss and the kiss was all contradictions. She wanted the slow and sensual glide of his tongue across her bottom lip, wanted him to gently part her lips into a soft kiss, but she also wanted him everywhere and all at once. She wanted his lips to be incessant and unrelenting. She had little experience, so she thought she would allow him to set the pace, and at first that was what she did. As a lover Solas was all lips and hands—even in their times before when no clothes were removed he liked to explore, find out what sounds he could elicit from her lips as a graceful hand slipped to her hips and grasping. He liked to draw moans from her as he kissed her neck, so he may relish the sound of his name, breathless on her lips. He did all of that in more in the glen. She ached as they slowly peeled away their clothes, wondering what sounds he would draw from her quivering, half parted mouth as he buried himself inside her for the first time…

She knew of these things. Inexperienced, a virgin, yes, but not one who didn’t fantasize or dream. So many times did she think of Solas, alone in her room. But when they were both free of their clothes, hands sliding down bodies in awe of the feel of their naked skin against each other, Eirini only gasped slightly in surprise as she felt him pressed against her. Moonlight painted their bodies, and in wonder Solas looked at her. He touched her breast, the small swell of her stomach, and lightly her fingertips danced across his bare chest and the few sparse hairs there. He was tall and he was broad, strong but not overly bulky. Lithe. Still powerful. He took down her hair, blonde waves spilling to her shoulders. He traced her vallaslin. They kissed and wrapped around each other. He had no assumptions, so he said, yet still Eirini chuckled when her head hit the bedroll, her naked back against the soft furs underneath her. Solas though, he was a careful man. A planner. He might have had an inkling. He might have known Eirini’s patience would run out, known her want for him was too much.

She barely had time to point it out to him, because there they were again with the contradictions again, her wanting him both slow and fast. She started slow, slow as her hand experimentally slid up and down his length, and he groaned. The sounds she could bring from him were music. Then his hands were against her body, and she thought herself a goddess, wrapped and entangled with him. The two of them were together and he touched her and kissed her body and every mark. His mouth worshipped the things she didn’t think deserved worship, scars and slight softness of belly and inner thighs, damp already with her arousal. So damp, yet he kissed her there still, tasting were she spilled before eyes searched, seeking permission.

She gave. Let us make a world, she thought, said aloud, and he gave her his mouth. His tongue swirled around her clit, sometimes lightly running down to her entrance. He muttered vhenan against her, the breath he exhaled another delicious sensation. He was better than her hands, felt wonderful as a long and graceful finger slid inside, gently rubbed a place where her own hand couldn’t reach. A gentle wave to a beach, and then more, and more, and Solas made her come. He touched her more as her orgasm subsided. Always his hands wandered like his mind wandered. She wanted him to wander all over her body always.

When he entered her he did so slowly, and there was only one point where his eyes were not looking into hers. It was at the beginning, when he felt her walls clench around him for the first time. He bit his lip, moaned softly. His brows were bent in bliss. She never saw anything more beautiful until his eyes opened again.

His hands found hers. Their palms locked. “Eirini…”

“You’re not hurting me,” she promised. “Solas, oh…”

“You feel…”

“I like it,” she muttered breathlessly, before finding herself chuckling when she realized how silly it sounded, realized how much of an understatement it was.

They created a new world, one with him inside her, their bodies and their hands and their gazed locked, and it was a world Eirini would never want to leave. It wasn’t as though they simply made love. They possessed, they bewitched. They wandered and became so beautifully lost. Kisses were given, sounds of music were made, their voices chanting words of endearment. She pulled him closer and closer. They were the closest they could be, but she was not satisfied until his fingers brought her another orgasm. She came with him still inside her, and the sight of him relishing her pleasure was sacred.

He was close. She nodded. She wanted to feel all of him, and with no preamble he came, warm inside her. There was more music as he moaned, called her name. It was bliss as a damp forehead pressed into the crook of her shoulder. It was more sacred than when they first joined, because he remained inside when the pleasure was done.

He stayed. Let me take you to my world, she asked of him. Let me take you to mine, he asked of her after. She found the new world her favorite.

She would never want to leave.

 

* * *

 

But of course, they did leave their own world. The morning after they made love for the first time, they walked hand in hand back to the camp in the morning. Her grandmother smiled at her, kissed her cheek. She must have known, for Eirini knew she glowed in the aftermath of his love. (Indeed, he gave her his mouth again that morning before arriving, though she kept that to herself.) And though they missed the rest of the music that played night to go off into their own world, Eirini and Solas danced anyway, to their own song, heard only in their own world.

“Eirini…” he whispered as they danced, her hand still over his heart. “Eirini…”

But he didn’t have to say he loved her, for her to know it was true. He loved her. In their own world, he said it himself. Not with his words, but with his music and the way they made love. And even when he left, Eirini knew he loved her in their world.


End file.
